


The Code, The Mate and The Healing

by theauthor2010



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Coercion, M/M, Non Consensual, Rape, Rape Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-11
Updated: 2012-09-10
Packaged: 2017-11-14 00:24:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/509361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theauthor2010/pseuds/theauthor2010
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris Argent is given an ultimatum. Kill Stiles or leave him to find in a state his mate will never forget. TW: Rape/Non-Con</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Code

"We're going to leave a message for those wolves that they won't soon forget…" 

Chris Argent had followed in his father's footsteps his entire life, but he did so while adhering strictly to a set of codes. He had a code as far as hunting went and he had what felt like a decent moral code regarding everything else in life. He was a good man, a moral man as much as he could be. He took care of his family and did his duty as a hunter, but he was well aware that there were certain rules; these were rules that may be bent in hard times, but could never be broken. 

"What are you talking about?" he asked his father, holding his breath without even realizing he was doing so. He had a feeling this had to do with the kid, the sheriff's son. He had been unable to believe that his father had taken a human boy captive, an innocent human boy. 

"The boy represents a lot to those animals," his father explained, calmly as ever. "I think they will realize that this isn't child's play when they find his body, split in two like a properly disposed of animal, lying on the doorstep of the Hale house." 

Chris stared in disbelief. He knew that his father had been heading down a slippery slope towards total evil. He had watched helplessly as the man turned his beautiful, kind Allison into a killer and now it had reached a peak. He was demanding the murder of a human boy who had never harmed a soul as far as Chris knew. "No," he said softly, repeating the word when he realized how weakly it came out. "No. The boy is human and a complete innocent. We don't kill innocents, even if they end up on the wrong side of things." 

"Your morals are admirable, son," his father said evenly. "If it saves you emotional turmoil, just consider the boy caught in the crossfire. I won't ask you to take part in the execution, but it will take place tonight." 

"You can't say the words crossfire and execution in the same sentence," Chris said harshly, trying to shake his father out of whatever craze he was in. There had to be some shred of humanity in the man, some part of him that said murdering a child wasn't something they could do. "We cannot kill the boy. That makes us the monsters, something I know you don't want to become. He's a friend of Allison's; she cares about him." 

"Allison understands that certain things must be done." 

"We can leave them a message without killing the boy," Chris said, in a last ditch attempt to convince his father. He hated the man that he had become. He was weak. He'd allowed his father take down Allison in the same way that he had Kate; he had also allowed his beloved wife to die. "There has to be another, more humane way." 

His father gave a small nod. "If I found a more humane way," he said, using the word humane darkly, "then I would require you to do it, Chris. Would you be willing to carry out any order I gave you? If I chose not to kill the boy, then would you listen to me as unconditionally as your sister once did?" 

Chris knew that he was going to have to do whatever the man asked. He nodded immediately. He could not live with a child's life on his conscience. He could not look at the sheriff of Beacon Hills and know that he'd played a part in his only child's death. He could not look at Allison and know that he had allowed one of her classmates to die, a child just like she was. "I'll do whatever you ask," he said softly. 

"I have found an interesting fact about Stilinski," he said. "He is Scott McCall's best friend but he also belongs to Derek Hale in a way we never anticipated."

"What's that?" 

"The boy is Hale's mate," he said with a dark tone that brought chills to his son's being. "You know how werewolves are, Chris. The wolf in them seeks a mate and often finds one. My pet monster sensed it immediately, confirming my suspicions."   
"So, he's Hale's mate…" Chris said, trying to act utterly unimpressed. "That just means that the wolf is drawn to him. That says nothing about their relationship. As far as we know, they aren't involved in any way whatsoever." He tried his hardest not to think of what his father was about to say. Part of him, deep inside, knew what was coming but it still shocked him. 

"I know you've been lonely since your wife's passing…" he said in a soft, delicate voice that chilled Chris' blood."I want you to use that loneliness and anger and I want you to use the boy for your satisfaction. I want you to leave a mark on the boy that Hale can't forget. I want you to drive both the human and the wolf inside crazy." 

"You want me to rape him," Chris whispered, using the word that his father did not. 

He received a curt nod in reply. "I want you to do this for me," he said. "I want you to do this and if you do, Chris, then I can promise we won't resort to…nastier techniques. If you refuse, however, I cannot trust another with this duty. Show me how loyal you are, or I will leave him for Derek to find in pieces." Chris knew what his father was doing. He was testing his loyalty yet again. It was always a test for him. He had no doubt in his mind that if he didn't do what was being asked of him then Stilinski would be found bisected at the foot of Derek Hale's door. 

"I'll do it," he said. 

"Good," he said. "I'll have the boy moved. I hope you don't mind your old man watching you work, Christopher. I want to make sure that the mark is made." 

It took no time at all for them to move the human away from the captured werewolves. Gerard Argent, however, was the type to wait. He waited to get Chris until the boy was conscious again. He looked up at them when they entered the room with defiant eyes. He was the bravest kid that Chris had ever met really. "What do you want with me?" he asked. "I told Crazy Ass Grandpa here that Scott's gonna find me." 

"I'm more concerned about Derek finding you." Chris turned towards his father's voice. "He'd be pretty devastated to find that his mate had been used by another." He looked to Chris and then nodded. 

His heart broke at the task that was laid before him. His father was looking at him expectantly and he was forced to rape a child of Allison's age. He looked at the boy, whose bruised face would haunt his every nightmare for the rest of his life. Stiles looked at him defiantly, dangerously. He wanted to tell him that he was sorry, but since he couldn't make a sound in front of his father, instead pushed the boy back against the wall with a hand on his shoulder. "Don't make a sound," he threatened, wishing that those words could convey the true meaning he was feeling. He was saving the kid's life. 

He shoved him roughly against the wall and undid his pants. "What the hell are you doing?" the kid asked, trying to move away. Now, Chris was well trained physically and could keep him pinned down, but the kid was young and strong and moved underneath him. 

"Perhaps on the sofa, Chris?" 

He took his father's thinly veiled order and undid the boy's pants the rest of the way, shoving them to the ground. He knocked the boy off of his feet in order to yank them off along with his boxers, leaving the boy naked from the waist down. His face reddened with humiliation and he struggled. "Stop!" he screamed out loud. Chris tossed him against the sofa and he hit it hard. Chris pinned him down and leaned into his ear 

"Don't struggle. I'll make this easier on you." 

"Fuck that!" Stiles yelled out, the profanity snapping Chris back to reality. He could feel the boy underneath him struggling. "Stop! God, please. I…why? Don't do this.." His struggling grew stronger as he realized Chris' intentions with him. Chris didn't respond to the struggling. He just tried his best to think about things that he would consider arousing so that he could get it up to do this. He hesitated and stared at the naked teenager underneath him.

"I can't…" he told his father."I can't...I need…" 

"Use what you have," his father snarled at him. "I want Hale to smell the blood, sweat and tears." 

Chris hated the fact that he was going to listen to his father. He was going to obey the man's every order like the good soldier that he was. He undid his pants, using his own saliva to moisten his palm as he stroked himself, trying to get hard. He let the adrenaline and fear do the trick, remembering all of the times that he and Victoria had spent, mad wild nights between two consenting adults. It worked in order to allow him to sexually violate a child. 

He tried to make it less painful but could not. Chris held his breath until it became torturous. He pinned the boy down and forced his way deep inside of him. The only lube was a quick coat of saliva and the penetration was agony. He held the boy down with a forceful grip on his shoulders. He tuned out the screams and pleas and tears. He finally found yet again the numbness he'd felt after Victoria's death. His body was on autopilot and his mind was being barred from working. He wasn't thinking or feeling. He was doing.

He came and did not feel a bit of the pleasure. When he pulled out blood and semen coated his softening member and the boy's spread thighs. He turned to his father. "There," he said.

"Well done," his father said softly. "I have to hand it to you Chris; this did prevent any unnecessary bloodshed. I'll have the boy taken to Hale. You go wash up. Your services will be needed shortly, I imagine." 

"Swear to me you'll keep your word," he managed.

"I'll keep my word. Trust in your father." 

After that, Chris went to shower. He stripped naked and turned the water to as hot as he could stand. The steam rose and filed the room and the heat seared into his skin, scalding away what it could. The room was quiet but all alone Chris could hear the pleas he had ignored. He broke, dropping to his knees on the slick tile. He let himself absolutely shatter.


	2. The Mate

Derek stopped dead in his tracks when the smell filled the air. It smelled like his. He looked around and knew that it was outside. When he got outside of the house, he smelled that it was his mate. He ran even though he'd never even known that he had a mate before. It didn't matter that logically he didn't even know his mate. His mate was in danger and he needed to get to his mate. 

He found Stiles in a heap on the ground. The boy was beaten, unconscious and Derek froze suddenly. He was naked from the waist down and Derek smelled the violation. The boy had been raped. He bent down and picked the boy up in his arms, sensing the pain that he was in. "Stiles, I've got you," he said seriously, even though he didn't feel half as in control as he pretended to be. "I've got you. It's going to be okay." 

He quickly lifted Stiles up and brought him inside the house. He laid him down on the old worn couch, immediately fetching a blanket to throw around his waist. He dropped the fabric on top of Stiles, looking at the boy and urging him desperately to wake up. "Stiles, please," he said, gently moving him. As he shook the boy he could identify the smell perfectly. Argent. He had enough run ins with Chris Argent by that time to know the essence of his smell. That man had raped his mate and he was going to pay with his life. Derek was going to make him suffer slowly. "He's going to hurt…" 

Stiles' eyes soon flickered open. He looked at Derek and jerked away, looking around him in terror. "Please…don't…stop!" he screamed out, almost falling off of the tattered sofa in his struggles. Derek laid two hands on his shoulders, but immediately withdrew them when he saw how much terror being pinned down caused. 

"Stiles, it's me," Derek said softly. "Where does it hurt?" 

Stiles shook his head as he spoke. He seemed to be trying to shake off some sort of nightmare. "Derek…please," he whispered. "It hurts…everywhere." He looked down and it seemed like some sort of memory dawned on him. "Oh my god Derek…he … I tried to get away but I couldn’t. He just…" Derek did the only thing that he could do. He nuzzled his face up against the boy's shoulder, trying to give him some sense that his mate was there and was going to take care of him. He'd deal with the fact that he was just realizing Stiles was his mate later. 

Stiles calmed down a little, breathing in and out slowly. He looked like he was going to be sick though, so Derek immediately grabbed one of the old buckets he'd been using to catch the leaks in the roof. Stiles immediately threw up seeing the bucket. Derek supported his upper body. Once Stiles was done, he fell back against the sofa, shutting his eyes tight like he was trying to defend himself against some sort of evil. 

Peter chose that exact moment to walk in the room. "My god…" he mumbled under his breath, looking from Derek back to Stiles. There were parts of Peter that still reminded Derek of his uncle that had been lost in the fire and honestly with a deflected pact and now this, he clung to that. 

"Peter, he's been…" 

Peter nodded grimly as Derek trailed off. "Sadly," he said solemnly. "I hope you realize who the boy is now, though." 

"He's my mate," Derek said grimly. Stiles was too out of it to even hear those words. Derek leaned closer and brushed his fingers over Stiles' bruised cheek. "Stiles, listen to me. I am going to rip him limb from limb. They won't recognize the body…" 

"I begged him." 

The desperate, choked sob broke his heart. "Derek, we have duties to attend to," Peter said, breaking Derek out of his heartbroken daze. "We can get the boy somewhere safe, but then we must take care of our little Jackson issue." 

Derek chose to take Stiles to Scott's house. Neither Scott nor Melissa McCall were at the house, but Stiles produced a key out from under the doormat that made Derek sigh in relief. Derek took Stiles inside and up to Scott's room, lying him down on the bed. Stiles looked to Derek with sad, terrified eyes. "I don't want you to go," he said in nearly a whisper. The words broke Derek's already crumbling heart. He had never heard Stiles sound so needy and desperate. 

"I know," Derek said softly. "This is just the safest place possible while all of this goes down. I promise that I'll come back." He had never been so gentle or delicate with Stiles before. He couldn't believe that he'd never been able to identify the boy as his mate. It had taken the world's worst crime to be committed against the boy for him to realize it, and that made him hate himself. 

"Don't worry kid," Peter said, having entered the house behind them. He was currently looking around it with an amused expression. "What happened to you is pretty damned awful, but Derek's not as ineffective as he looks. He'll take care of it and you'll be off mating in no time." 

Derek growled and Peter walked outside. He took that moment to quickly kiss Stiles, just a peck against his lips. Stiles looked at him like that was the strangest thing in the world to do, but he figured that Stiles didn't feel the power of Derek having recognized him as a mate yet. "Take care Stiles," he said. "We'll get this all sorted out and I promise that I will be back." 

Things happened the way they were supposed to after that. They confronted Gerard Argent and Scott had proven himself more effective than Derek could ever hope to be. He was a true Alpha and would never accept Derek as his own. That was just fact. Nothing had been more satisfying than watching Gerard Argent die as a result of his own greed and lust for immortality. Derek had done what he could for Jackson, believing that killing him was the only thing that would work, but learning that Peter was right. Love was all that had to save him. Peter had enlisted a boy from the school to bring Lydia Martin to the warehouse. Peter was right. Lydia was the thing that would save Jackson from himself and let him be reborn as a werewolf. He watched the Kanima go down and it's master die.

In the end there was one thing left. Chris Argent stood with his daughter, comforting Alison as she sobbed. Derek ripped them apart, relishing in the slam of his fist against Argent's face. His nose crumpled and Derek's wolf even enjoyed the smell of blood. He felt the transformation come on, growling as he bit and punched. For once, Derek let the wolf have total control. 

He heard Allison scream and felt Scott and Isaac trying to pull him back. The wolf wasn't stopping though. The man who had hurt his mate was going to die painfully. There was no question about it. 

"Derek, stop." 

There was, however, one voice that could snap him out of his animalistic rage. Stiles stood there, as bruised and battered as he'd left him at Scott's house. He stopped and was suddenly propelled back into the world of the human. "Stiles," he said softly. 

"I want to talk to him," Stiles growled. It wasn't the kid he knew talking. It was someone so much stronger. He looked at Argent, who was now sporting bloody, broken wounds. The man looked absolutely terrified, but not of the werewolf who had clawed and bit him. No, he was afraid of Stiles. "Tell me why," Stiles demanded. He sounded stronger than ever. "I heard you talk to him. What did he promise you?" 

The man stared hard at the floor. He did not look the teenager in the eye. "He said that he'd have your mutilated corpse left for Hale to find. He said that he'd spare your life if I did what…I've done." The shame came off of the man in waves but at that moment, Derek didn't care if he had the best intention. He'd raped Stiles. He'd raped an innocent boy. He still deserved to be torn limb from limb, slowly. He looked however, to his violated mate for guidance. 

"I'm so sorry," the man said, voice cracking on a silent sob as he broke inside. He went to his knees. He didn't cry or speak or do anything. He just broke. His horrified daughter watched from his side. "I couldn't have the blood of a child on my hands…" It was said in a monotone voice that was truly dead. 

"So you violated one?" Derek growled. 

There was no answer. Stiles seemed to be struggling hard. "Derek," he said in a voice that sounded like a whimper clawed itself out of a brave, steady throat. "Leave him alone, okay? He…he can just…be like he is. Maybe he got a bite taken out of him and he'll turn into everything he hates. That'd be…that'd be fitting…I just want to get as far away from him as possible, please?" 

He looked at Derek and Derek could see the struggles in his beautiful brown eyes. Derek nodded and that was that. His mate's word was law. He picked Stiles up and put him in the car to get them back to their safe place. Derek would take care of him. That night he let Stiles cry silently in his arms until he fell asleep safely in his bed. He listened to his breathing the entire night. Stiles was in for a long, painful recovery but his mate would never, ever let him go.


	3. The Healing

Six months had always seemed like a long time to Stiles. Anything could happen in the span of six months, right? Well it had been six months since he'd been captured by the hunters. It had been six months since Chris Argent had been forced by his father to rape Stiles. It was six months since that horrible thing had happened and Stiles was still having nightmares, waking up in cold sweats only to have Derek cling to him and promise him that he was going to be okay. It was six months since that day and Stiles was tired of waiting to get better.

Now Derek was always right there for him. It was part of who he was, as both Stiles' werewolf mate and a genuinely loyal man. This time, Stiles woke up, angry at himself for still having nightmares. He turned and found himself face to face with a concerned, fearful Derek. "I can't stop thinking about it," Stiles admitted against Derek's strong, broad shoulder. Derek rubbed his back and Stiles groaned pleased by the comfort. It was so stupid that it wouldn't leave his brain. It was like…it had to go away some time, didn't it? "It's stupid. It should have gone away by now. It hurt and it was terrible but…it's been so long. I…I even pity him." 

Stiles honestly did pity Argent for what he'd been forced to do. Stiles supposed he should thank the man for not letting his father kill him. He couldn't do that, however. Neither of them had seen Argent or his daughter since that day. Derek had been pretty convinced that he bit the man in his rage, so maybe he was running around as a werewolf somewhere. Stiles couldn't bring himself to care. 

Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles from behind and spooned up against his back. It was comforting to have Derek hold him tight, after a night of not sleeping. "I love you," Stiles whispered. It had been about a month since the first time he'd said it, so it was no longer new, but it felt special every single time. He honestly loved Derek. Derek's wolf may have been the first to choose Stiles as a mate, but over the past six months they had grown closer together. They knew each other's fears, hopes and dreams. They knew each other as intimately as they possibly could.

The other kind of intimacy…well, that just wasn't happening. The idea of having someone do to him what was done in that dingy room in the Argent house was the most disgusting thing he could think about. Now, Stiles wasn't stupid; he knew that there was a big difference between being raped and having consensual sex with a man that he truly loved. He just couldn't bring himself to be ready. When he got nervous about Derek's feelings and asked, Derek would just kiss the side of his mouth in that sweet but passionate way and say, "Stiles, things like this take time." 

"I love you too Stiles," Derek said back and everything seemed right in the world for that split second. He sighed and tried to will himself to relax again. Relaxation soon came and he leaned up against Derek, smiling to himself a little bit. Derek was the best thing to ever happen to him, even if he had become Stiles' under the worst of circumstances. "I love absolutely everything about you." 

At that, Stiles turned back towards Derek. He might have had an aversion to sexual things, but he was not at all against the idea of cuddling or kissing with his mate and the man he loved. He turned so that he was still in Derek's arms but facing the werewolf. He leaned over and kissed him lightly, just letting their lips brush against each other. He smiled when Derek responded, kissing him back just as gently. 

"You have the most beautiful eyes," Derek whispered. By the way his eyes widened in surprise, Stiles figured that the wolf had not intended to say those words out loud. Derek was still so shy about emotional things, even though he was more than comfortable with telling Stiles how much he loved them. 

"Really?" Stiles asked, teasing Derek just slightly.

Derek rose to the challenge. "Yeah," he said, stroking his fingers along Stiles' cheek. "I mean seriously, they're like this hazel color that…is almost an amber…It's insane." 

"So eloquent, my wolf boy," Stiles said back, kissing him again.

They spent a long time like that, just talking and kissing. Derek leaned up against Stiles and nuzzled their noses together. He said that he wasn't very good at being sweet and loving, but that was a total lie. Yes, he had some emotional constipation but he was the most loving person that Stiles knew when you got him alone in a quiet mood. "I hate that you still hurt," Derek whispered, bringing Stiles' thoughts back to that horrible night, but he couldn't blame Derek for doing that.

"I hate it too," Stiles told Derek gently. "I try not to, but that doesn't do me any good. I'm strong though and I have you. That's pretty dang good, right?" 

"Yeah," Derek said softly. "It really is Stiles." 

Maybe one day Stiles would do something about it. Maybe one day he would find Chris Argent and see how he was living his life in the aftermath. Maybe one day he would at least try to find Allison, so that she could give him an update on her dad. He wasn't sure that the nightmares and visions of what happened would ever go away, but maybe one day he could help people who had been in the same position. Stiles was a fighter and he wasn't going to let the fact that he hurt inside destroy him. He was going to turn that hurt into something good and he was going to do it with his mate at his side. He would heal.


End file.
